


The Poker Player

by KiSierra



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, White Collar
Genre: Crossover, Estelle is coming, Gen, Maybe I'll continue this, Mystery, Neal is sharp, No Spoilers, Protective Percy, Theft, pregnant Sally, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-09 01:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17397797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiSierra/pseuds/KiSierra
Summary: There is a statue theft in a museum in the other side of New York.Neal kind of loves it, because he can finally visit an art gallery outside of his radius, and also because Peter grumbles. A lot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I have no idea why I'm posting it or if I'll continue it. Maybe the muse will come if it's posted?

There is a statue theft in a museum in the other side of New York. Neal kind of loves it, because he can finally visit an art gallery outside of his radius, and also because Peter grumbles. A lot. The old man doesn’t have one fiber of an artist in him, that’s crystal clear. It’s still fun to drag him over there and watch him squirm between the paintings like a caveman.

The statue is five years old, which is not very impressive, but it’s fairly liked by the audiences. Sally Blofis didn’t sell another piece after The Poker Player, but the life-sized figurines made enough of an impression. It was a great job, by what the pictures allow Neal to see anyway. He’s really curious about the real statue.

They look for witnesses or evidence - there are none - and then go to meet the artist herself, who was brought to the museum to gather information.

Sally Blofis looks at them, hands rested over her swelling belly, and smiles pleasantly. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you. My days as a statuer were very short. It was something I tried as one-time experience and never got back to. I don’t remember too much about the making of The Poker Player or the selling of it, I’m past that time in my life now. We’ve been through some major changes.”

Peter leaned in a little bit. “I understand that, Mrs. Blofis, but we still need to make sure there’s nothing we missed. Can you, for example, think of anyone who has some sort of a grudge against you, that might have taken it out by stealing your art?”

Her son, a teenaged boy who presented himself as Percy, furrows his brow at that, but Sally remains calm and polite. “No, I do not. Not many know of my statue, I didn’t speak about it to anyone outside of the family.”

“And by family you mean…”

Her smile widens. She looks at her son adoringly. “My son and my husband, who’s at work right now. What else?”

Peter keeps on investigating, and Neal leaves that to him, instead letting his instincts lead him. He focuses on Mrs. Blofis and her smile - warm, but measured - and her body language - too still to be comfortable - and her hands. Mostly he looks at her hands.

Percy catches him staring and their eyes lock. The boy’s - no more than eighteen - vivid green eyes darken, his jaw clenching. Neal tilts his head ever so slightly, letting his lips curl into the smallest of smiles, and Percy frowns but stays straight and confident. He’s a stubborn one.

He catches his mom’s hand. “Hey, look, I know you need us for the investigation, but we obviously don’t know anything, and mom has an appointment with a doctor that we’re going to miss if we stay here any longer. So…”

Sally nods and stands up, albeit slowly with her puffed belly, before Peter can retort. “I hope you’ll find the thief soon, but don’t bother yourself with updating us in any case. We prefer to leave that time in the past.”

And then the pregnant woman and her lean son leave the museum, leaving Neal a clear path to stare after them, deep in thought.

“What do you think?” Peter asks with a sigh, and Neal shakes his head, making sure his fedora stays just a little bit tilted.

“Something here stinks.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I don't think she's the artist.”

Peter turns his head to him from his computer and raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Sally Blofis.” Neal leans against the door frame and returns a slightly-amused-but-mostly-serious look to his boss. “I don't think she actually made The Poker Player.”

Peter turns his body fully towards him with a resigned look that Neal chooses to take as excited. “And what makes you think that, Neal?”

“A few things,” he says, feigning disinterest. “Like how her name wasn't signed on the card with the statue’s name, just in the gallery’s archaeons. Or how she held the pen with her right hand when you told her to sign those papers, and to make the exact pose to The Poker Player's legs she should be favouring her left hand. Or how she didn't care at all about the fate of the statue that was supposed to take her months, if not years, to complete.”

Peter shakes his head. “You can't really stand behind these arguments, and you know it, Neal.”

“Maybe. But you have to admit that this is strange. She only made one work in her entire life, one that was so precise and realistic it could not possibly be her first work, and when she finishes it she sells it to the museum and hurries to move on with her life. And when something _happens_ to it - she doesn't even want to know if it's found or not. She doesn't care at all about something that should've been the work of her life.”

Peter is shaking his head. “We still can't investigate that, not on these claims. It doesn't even have anything to do with the actual investigation.”

Neal straightens, letting his mask of boredom fall. “Yeah, but it could have. This work isn't famous, Peter. It looks great, but it's just five years old, made by pretty much a noname, and it's not really important to anyone in particular. Why would anyone bother steal that? It would be easier to just buy it. It's not worth the trouble, and if it's coming from me, you know it means something.”

Peter considers it. Neal knows because Peter's not answering immediately, and his mouth is tilted in that way that means he's trying really hard to look tired instead of intrigued.

“Fine,” he relents after a minute of silence, and immediately sends Neal a glare that warns him not to look too satisfied with himself. Neal pretends not to notice. “We'll look into this. But if nothing comes up, we're moving on, you get that?”

“Sure, sure,” Neal hums. He’s not worried. Something is going to come up eventually, and if his gut is right - and it is five times out of three - it's going to be something big.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't really know what I'm going to do with this, but I wrote this baby of a chapter, so there we go. 
> 
> If anyone has some sort of idea of what to do with this... I'm right here.


End file.
